


Ziam Fic Recs - Smut

by ZeeLovesLi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeeLovesLi/pseuds/ZeeLovesLi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This book is mainly going to contain Ziam fanfic (mostly smut) recommendations. If you guys have any prompts that you want me to maybe write or even look for, you're most welcome to comment them. </p>
<p>IMPORTANT - All credits are going to be given to the authors of these fanfictions!</p>
<p>Hope you guys like them!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Draw Me Like One Of Your Bradford Girls

**Author's Note:**

> Credits for this fic - http://erstwhiled.livejournal.com/1845.html 
> 
> Summary - Liam needs some extra-credit for a class he really shouldn't have taken. There, he meets Zayn, and Liam ends up getting a whole lot more than just extra-credit.

“Naked. As in, no clothes, naked?” Liam could tell from the blank look on his art professor’s face that she was being completely serious.

“Generally, ‘nude’ is used more often in art.” Professor Givens waved a hand nonchalantly, the many bangles on her wrist tinkling together as they slid down her forearm. “But yes, you would be naked.”

Liam’s brow furrowed and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it until he winced. “I’d be naked – nude – in a room full of people?” He was starting to feel sick even at the idea of it.

In keeping with her rather dry attitude, the woman in front of him simply arched an eyebrow at him and said, “No Mr. Payne, you’d be standing nude in an empty room. That’s the type of extra-credit work I assign students who hand in somewhat abysmal pieces for grading.” Her eyes dropped pointedly to the poster tube in Liam’s hand and he flushed.

That was the whole reason he was here, after class, begging for some kind of extra-credit so he could improve his grade in a class he shouldn’t even be taking. He can’t draw, he’s not an artist. He’s a singer. Liam knows now that he should have dropped the class earlier, taken up something more his style. Maybe that song writing class his roommate, Harry Styles, said was good and easy. But according to Harry, art was easy too because ‘you could give them a crayon outline of your cock, covered in glitter, and you’d still get full marks’. Liam thought maybe he hated Harry a little right now.

“That was sarcasm,” Liam said and she smiled at him, quick, sharp, and completely sarcastic in and of itself.

“It’s this or nothing, Mr. Payne, that’s all I can give you.” She looked at him expectantly now, and Liam crumbled; he needed this grade. She continued on when he nodded hesitantly. “Good. I’ll see you here at ten to five. And don’t worry, it’s an advanced drawing class, you’ve got nothing they haven’t seen before or got themselves.”

Liam blanched and nodded again before leaving the classroom in search of a strong cup of tea. And maybe Harry Styles, so he could at least tell him he was considering punching him in the face.

 

***

When Liam arrived back at the classroom, he was pushing 4:55. He smiled apologetically and tried to ignore the two women already seated, waiting for class to begin. Professor Givens just looked at him over the top of her glasses and pointed him in the direction of a screen set up in the back corner of the room.

Once behind it, Liam sank into a crouch. Hanging his head low, he sucked in a few deep breaths to try and ease the rolling in his stomach. He was a performer, he could stand up in front of hundreds and sing his heart out not feeling a fraction of the nerves he had at this moment.

“Probably because you do that with all your clothes on, Liam,” he whispered to himself, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. Beyond the screen, he could hear students arriving, setting up, and waiting for him to stand completely starkers in front of them. After one last steadying breath, Liam pushed himself up from the ground and began to undress. His shoes and socks came off; his jumper and long-sleeve were folded and set on a stool that had been provided. Shaky fingers slipped on the button of his jeans, scrabbling uselessly at the fastening for a few seconds until they decided to work again. Liam stepped out of his jeans and placed them, folded, on top of his other clothes. He couldn’t bring himself to take off his briefs just yet. Instead, he grabbed the robe that had been hanging off one corner of the screen and slipped it on.

A few minutes went by before the professor called him over. Liam almost went out without taking off his underwear; he made if halfway out from behind the screen before he remembered. Ducking back behind it, he quickly shucked them off and stuffed them in the pocket of his jeans. He balled his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms to stop them from shaking as he made his way into the middle of the circle of art students. The class was pretty evenly divided into men and women, most a few years older than Liam.

Professor Givens moved around the outside of the circle to address him over top of the head of one of her students – a pretty girl with hair dyed a vivid red and several facial piercings. “Five ten minutes sessions. You will affect a different pose each one. You don’t have to be completely still but try not to move too drastically. Not too difficult?”

Liam shook his head minutely, fully aware of all the eyes on him.

“Good, robe off then and we’ll begin. Start with a strong pose, something proud.” Givens gave a small nod of self-satisfaction and moved off to speak to a student on the other side of the circle.

A strong pose? Liam balked, there was no way he was feeling strong right now. Nonetheless, he undid the tie on his robe and slipped it off his shoulders, the material pooling at his feet in a puddle of black satin. Despite the coolness of the room and the goosebumps he could feel prickling up on his arms, Liam could feel the warmth of a blush colouring his face - the heat and flush travelling from his chest all the way to his ears.

Liam adopted a classic superhero pose; he stood with his arms akimbo, shifting his feet until they were shoulder width apart. Nobody said anything; they just looked him up and down then went to work. By the end of the ten minutes, Liam’s shoulders were starting to feel tight and his nose itched, but he didn’t move until Professor Givens called time.

“Thank you. Have a bit of a stretch, and then rotate about two people to your left.” He ended up facing a girl who blushed as pink as he did when their eyes met over the top of her easel. From then on, Liam resolved not to look directly at the students around him, instead focusing on the wall over their shoulders or the floor.

By the time Liam was on the last pose, he’d turned nearly full circle and his embarrassment had receded to almost nothing, flaring up slightly only when he had to change his position. Givens had asked for poses that reflected emotion. Liam could easily bring them up on his face, but deciding how to position his limbs took a bit of thought. This time was no different.

She looked at him, the backs of her fingers pressed to her lips in thought, then down at a few of the easels. “I want something morose.” She extended a hand towards him and added as though in afterthought, “And a little pensive.”

Liam nodded. He rested most of his weight on his left leg, letting his right leg bend slightly at the knee. He turned at the waist, as if about to walk off, and relaxed his shoulders, letting his fingers go slack and brush against his thighs. Lastly, Liam dropped his chin slightly.

About halfway through, Liam’s neck started to hurt. He turned his head to the other side to ease some of his discomfort, and on the way back to his original placement he caught the eye of the boy he was facing. Liam watched as the boy gave him a very considerable once over before smirking slightly and looking back at his sketch pad. Liam could feel his face starting to warm again and he took a deep breath to try and suppress it. Over the next 5 minutes, Liam couldn’t help himself; his eyes kept flicking back to the dark haired boy. Sometimes their eyes would meet and Liam would dart his back to the floor, but not before seeing the boy raise an eyebrow slightly or smirk again. Other times, Liam would watch him for a few seconds as he stared intently at his sketch pad or rub at his page, smudging lines with his fingers, bottom lip drawn into his mouth and pinned with his teeth.

“Alright, that’s it for today, thank you.” Professor Givens’ voice startled him from where he’d been watching the boy again; he looked from side to side and found the small class packing away their things. He dipped down quickly to snatch up the robe. Liam was tying up the sash when someone spoke up.

“Uh, Leslie, if it’s alright, could I have another ten, fifteen minutes? If it’s okay with you, that is.” It was the boy, and the last part appeared to be directed at Liam. He looked at Liam, eyebrows raised in query.

Liam didn’t know what to say, he just looked at the boy then at Professor Givens, who apparently took that as Liam acceding to the request as she just shrugged and moved towards the door, bag in hand. “Just remember to turn off the lights and lock the door from the inside when you’re done. Oh, and Mr. Payne? Come by my office tomorrow afternoon; we’ll talk.”

They were alone and Liam was standing in the middle of an almost empty circle of easels and stools, rubbing at his elbow. The boy looked at him over the top of his easel.

“You alright?”

Liam gave a self-conscious chuckle and pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s just a bit weird, it being only us.”

The boy snorted softly and grinned. “It’s gonna get weirder in a second, I need you to take your robe off again.” He looked back at his sketch pad as Liam shrugged off his robe and dropped it to the ground.

“Do you want me standing like I was before?” Liam asked, already moving into position.

“Yeah.” The boy scanned his eyes over Liam then picked up his charcoal. “You got a first name then, Mr. Payne?”

“Liam.”

“Liam.” Liam’s face pinked up a bit with how slowly the boy said his name, almost as though he was rolling each syllable across his tongue, feeling how they sounded in his mouth. “I'm Zayn. Could you tuck your chin down a bit? Thanks.”

“You look a bit younger than the other students, are you really good at drawing then?” Liam glanced back at Zayn, who grinned brightly.

“I'm pretty good, yeah.” He didn’t say anything for a minute or two, just worked at his sketch. He sat back and looked from his sketch to Liam. “You a theatre student? We get a lot of them doing modelling for us.”

Liam shook his head. “No, voice actually. I'm picking up some extra-credit.” He ran a hand through his hair, slightly embarrassed. “My roommate convinced me that art wouldn’t be too hard, so now I'm failing because I trusted him when I really shouldn’t have. Professor Givens suggested this to make up for it, but I'm probably about as good a model as I am an artist.”

Zayn rubbed at his cheek with the back of his hand and looked at Liam, his expression slightly incredulous. “You’re a fantastic model, you’re gorgeous.”

Turning his head quickly, Liam stared at Zayn wide-eyed. He could feel his blush coming back, heating right up to the tips of his ears. “I-I'm not…” he stuttered to a stop when Zayn got up from his stool and came around the front of his easel, still looking at Liam with an expression of disbelief.

“Have you seen you?” His eyes travelled down Liam’s body, then back up to his face. “Your muscles, and the way they shift when you move. Just looking at the curves of your shoulders and the lines of your throat - I could draw you for years and never get bored.”

Liam’s jaw dropped a little, and he could feel his heart rate speed up as Zayn moved closer to him.

Zayn extended a hand toward him. “Could I? I just wanna move you around a bit.” Liam blinked and jerked his head in a short nod, gasping a little when Zayn’s hands went to his hips. He let Zayn shift him by turns, gentle presses slowly adjusting his position as his fingertips moved to brush at his shoulders, chin, and the inside of his elbow. Then Zayn rubbed a thumb over his hipbone, breathing out a laugh. “You’ve got smudges.”

Liam tried to remember how to breathe as he looked down at Zayn’s hand on his hip, thumb rubbing uselessly at the dark smears of charcoal there. “You’re not doing anything.” Liam said quietly, looking up at Zayn through his lashes.

“I'm making it worse actually.” Zayn’s tongue came out to wet his lips. Liam had to close his eyes and bite his own lip, hoping the pain searing through his flesh would be enough to distract him from the stirring in his groin.

Zayn’s face was close enough now that Liam could feel every exhale ghosting across his cheek. “You should finish your sketch,” he whispered shakily.

The fingers of Zayn’s free hand skated up Liam’s arm, dragged across his collarbone and came to rest under his chin, tipping it up with two fingers. “I did, five minutes ago. I just wanted to touch you.” Zayn’s voice was soft, sure, and Liam opened his eyes.

“Oh.” The sound was lost somewhere halfway between a word and an exhale. Liam brought a hand up to wrap his fingers around Zayn’s wrist. He could feel Zayn’s pulse, steady but a little fast against his fingertips.

Zayn’s eyes dropped to his lips. “I want to kiss you, Liam.”

Liam’s tongue came out to swipe across his lower lip and Zayn’s eyes tracked the movement. With the two fingers still crooked under Liam’s chin, he pulled Liam forward gently, meeting him halfway. Liam’s eyes drifted closed when Zayn’s lips pressed to his. He kissed Liam, once, softly and closed mouthed before parting his lips slightly to suck Liam’s bottom lip in between his own. The hand at Liam’s chin dropped, moving to curl around the back of Liam’s neck, fingers threading into the hair at the base of his scalp. Liam could feel his whole body growing warm, and the fingers still wrapped around Zayn’s wrist tightened their grip as Zayn’s tongue nudged gently at the seam of Liam’s lips. His lips parted and he fought the urge to arch his back as Zayn’s tongue slid along his.

The hand at Liam’s hip pressed harder and Liam shifted into it, suddenly becoming aware that perhaps being the only naked one in this situation wasn’t such a good idea. He pulled back, breathing in deeply through his nose and resisting the desire to go back to kissing Zayn when he’d made a needy, lost sound at Liam’s disappearance. Liam pressed his forehead to Zayn’s and, with eyes still shut, whispered, “I should put my clothes back on.”

“You should come back to mine.”

Liam groaned and gave Zayn a swift kiss before pulling back entirely. He pulled on his clothes quickly, taking off his long-sleeve and putting it back on a second time after he realised it was backwards. From behind the screen he could hear Zayn packing up his art supplies, then the sound of running water. He was about to move out from behind the screen when he stopped, suddenly hesitant. He knew nothing about Zayn, just like Zayn knew nothing about him. And he was what – going back to his flat to sleep with him? Liam didn’t do this sort of thing. He generally had no desire to have flings, preferring relationships, girlfriends, boyfriends.

All doubts he had, however, left him when Zayn’s head appeared around the edge of the screen, soon followed by the rest of him. “You ready?” Liam was about to reply when Zayn laughed and grabbed his hand. “C’mere, you’ve got charcoal on your face.” He lead Liam over to the bench in the corner, fingers curled around Liam’s as he pulled him along.

Zayn pulled a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and wet it under the tap. Liam tipped his head back slightly when Zayn swiped the wet towel across his jaw and under his chin, removing the marks he’d put on Liam earlier. Liam dried his face with the cuff of his sleeve.

“Good, you’re presentable now.” Zayn inspected Liam’s face for any more smudges, fingers of one hand roaming over his skin, and sliding into his hair as Zayn backed him up against the bench top. When the small of his back hit the edge, Liam’s hands went to Zayn’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. Zayn smiled and planted his free hand on the bench behind Liam. He leaned into Liam, bringing their hips flush and kissed him slow, learning every bit of Liam’s mouth with his tongue. Liam felt dizzy, sucking in short breaths when he could. His hands inched under the material of Zayn’s t-shirt and stroked themselves over his waist and ribcage. Zayn’s skin was warm and smooth, and Liam could feel the slight play of his muscles when Zayn moved.

They stayed like that, kissing open-mouthed against the bench until Zayn pulled away to kiss down the column of Liam’s throat then back up to suck a red mark into the skin below his jaw before finally stepping back.

“Back to mine then?” Zayn breathed, adjusting his trousers, a small smirk forming on his face when Liam did the same.

Liam smiled softly. “Yeah, ‘kay.” He could feel his face warming again. He ducked his head but Zayn just cupped his cheek for a moment then dropped his arm to take Liam’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

 

***

They have to take a service elevator to get to Zayn’s flat. “It’s nice,” Liam said, mostly out of courtesy, when they stepped through the front door. The flat was small, one room containing everything, plus a bathroom. Zayn left the lights off and walked further into the room. The last remnants of sunlight coming through the massive floor to ceiling window that took up over half of one wall were adequate enough to see by.

“It’s shit,” Zayn snorted, kicking off his boots, and Liam followed suit, tucking his shoes against the wall beside the front door. “It’s fucking freezing in winter and my hot water only lasts for 20 minutes, but it’s the window that I got it for.”

“It’s huge. Do you get good light through it?”

Zayn looked at the window, a soft smile playing across his lips. “Incredible light. In the summer it streams through and makes everything warm. It’s good if I want to do something happy. And in the winter it makes everything sort of muted, I do nice quiet pieces then.” Liam was kind of awestruck by the reverence in Zayn’s tone. He reached out and brushed his fingers across the back of Zayn’s hand. Zayn turned his head to look at him and tangled their fingers together. “Now, if I was going to sketch you.”

“Again?” Liam smiled playfully and let Zayn pull him towards the window.

“Mmhmm,” Zayn hummed and turned Liam gently with hands at his shoulders. “Again. I’d stand you here, right in the middle of summer. The light would shine off your hair, form shadows in the curve of your jaw and the dip in your collarbone.” Zayn brushed his fingers down Liam’s throat, slipping into the collar of his jumper, then tugging at it.

Liam’s hands went to the hem of his jumper, “Off?” He pulled it over his head and dropped it to the ground when Zayn nodded, his eyes fixed to the birthmark on Liam’s throat. “This too?” Liam asked, already pulling up his long-sleeve only to be stopped by Zayn’s hands over his and a soft no.

“And after we were done,” Zayn’s voice was low and his eyes were trailing up Liam’s throat to his lips. He started walking Liam backwards until he was pressed against the window. Zayn kissed him until his head tipped back against the glass, and then sank to his knees. “I’d suck you off, right here, against the window.”

Liam stilled when Zayn’s hands went to the fastenings on his jeans, popping the button and dragging the zip down carefully over Liam’s steadily hardening bulge. Zayn tugged Liam’s jeans down his thighs and let them pool at his ankles. He tapped at Liam’s knees and Liam shuffled his feet, spreading his legs a little more so Zayn could bring himself closer. Liam’s head was still tipped back, his eyes closed, and he could feel Zayn drawing delicate patterns over his thighs, fingertips occasionally sliding up into the legs of his boxer-briefs.

“Do you want me to suck you off, Liam?” Zayn queried, his voice husky, and Liam could feel the warmth of his breath through the fabric of his underwear.

Liam sucked in a breath then whispered, “Please,” before whimpering as Zayn mouthed at his cock through his briefs. 

Zayn’s fingers edged into the band of Liam’s underwear briefly then pulled them down to collect with Liam’s jeans at his ankles. Liam let out a soft groan when Zayn’s hand wrapped loosely around the base of his cock, moving in short strokes as Zayn’s mouth went to the head, sucking and licking lightly.

He was fully hard now, the skilled work of Zayn’s tongue and hands quickly paying off. Liam’s sad whine at the disappearance of Zayn’s mouth dissolved into one of pleasure when Zayn thumbed over the tip, collecting saliva and pre-come and smoothing it down the shaft.

Zayn’s free hand slid up Liam’s stomach, collecting the hem of his shirt as he went, bunching it up around Liam’s ribs. Liam pushed a hand into the hair at the top of Zayn’s head. Trying to keep the fingers twisting in it gentle, his other hand was clawing uselessly at the window pane as Zayn’s tongue licked up his cock. Zayn flicked the tip of his tongue quickly over the sensitive spot on the underside of the crown to press into the slit, making Liam moan obscenely and arch his back.

Liam drew in ragged breaths, hips stuttering and his toes curling against the floorboards. He heard Zayn hum appreciatively and he tipped his head forward, opening his eyes. Groaning when Zayn looked up at him, his lips slipping down the shaft and his tongue swirling over the head. There was a careful, gentle scrape of teeth and Liam’s thighs shook. He gasped when Zayn’s hand dropped from his cock to his balls, rolling them slowly in his palm. 

The hand in Zayn’s hair tightened then relaxed every time Zayn murmured pleasantly or made aborted little moans as he sucked and licked at Liam. Shivers ran down Liam’s spine and he gasped as it all began to become too much. He tugged a little harder at Zayn’s hair, hoping that would serve as some sort of warning, but it only made Zayn groan and slip a finger back behind Liam’s balls.

“Zayn…ahh,” he choked out, “Zayn, ‘m going to...nghh…come.” Zayn only hummed and flicked his tongue against the underside of Liam’s cock again. Liam tried to control the movements of his hips, and had to stop himself from tugging Zayn’s face closer when he came, crying out and slumping against the window.

Zayn swallowed, sucking at him for a few moments longer before pulling off of him and licking at his lips slightly. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, cleaning up the spit and come that had collected at the corners of his mouth, then rocked back to sit on his heels.

Releasing Liam’s shirt, Zayn slid his hand down to Liam’s hip to keep him steady against the window as Liam stood, panting, trying to calm down. Zayn turned his face inwards as Liam’s grip loosened and dropped from his hair to cup his cheek, thumb stroking lazily over Zayn’s cheekbone. Zayn pressed a soft kiss to the thin skin over Liam’s thundering pulse, smiled slowly, and then pushed himself to his feet.

Hands went to the hem of Liam’s long-sleeve, dragging it up and over his head when Liam raised his arm. Zayn kissed him again, long and slow, pinning Liam back against the window with the shirt caught at his elbows. Liam moaned when Zayn licked into his mouth, catching the faint taste of himself as Zayn’s tongue slid over his.

When Zayn released Liam, he stepped back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Liam sighed contently and dropped his arms, letting his shirt fall to the floor. He looked down at himself, frowned slightly, and then looked up at Zayn. “How come I'm the one who’s always naked?”

Zayn looked him up and down, his eyes lingering on Liam’s crotch, and he grinned wickedly, “I'm just lucky I guess.”

Liam felt the heat rise in his face and wondered how that reaction was still possible given the fact he’d just had his cock in Zayn’s mouth. His eyes dropped to the very obvious bulge in Zayn’s jeans. “So I'm thinking I should return the favour then?” He chewed on his lower lip and stepped out of his jeans that were caught around his ankles, toeing off his socks as he moved towards Zayn.

But Zayn just stepped back, “You could. Or, we could go to bed.” And apparently just in case Liam misunderstood him, Zayn raised his eyebrows in a way that said sleeping wasn’t something they were going to be doing a lot of.

Liam looked around Zayn to the bed behind him. It was just a mattress on the floor with most of the appropriate bedding. “You don’t have a bed frame.”

A small chuckle from Zayn told Liam that he had just said something amusing. “Is this you commenting on the fact you won’t have anything to hold onto when I fuck you, or that I have gone for the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe?”

“Um,” Liam blinked at him. Images of Zayn screwing him into the mattress flashed through his mind, derailing his train of thought. He shook his head to clear it. “Uh, the ‘starving artist’ thing really. Besides, I can just hold onto you.” Liam took a small amount of satisfaction watching Zayn’s Adam’s apple bob when he said that.

“Well you know what they say; dress how you want to feel or whatever.” Zayn shrugged a shoulder. His voice was slightly lower now, eyes travelling down Liam’s body once more, his fingers inching out into the air like they wanted to touch him.

Liam stepped toward him again and this time Zayn didn’t move back. “So you feel like a starving artist now, or you want to end up feeling like one?” He reached out, toying with the collar on Zayn’s leather jacket before sliding his hands inside and pushing it off his shoulders.

“Yes? Wait, I don’t…Honestly, I really just want you to start taking my clothes off.” He pushed his hips forward when Liam ran his fingers down Zayn’s chest and dipped them into the waist of his jeans. Zayn surged forward to kiss him, hands flitting from Liam’s shoulders to his face. They moved once again, this time to his own t-shirt when Liam started to pull at Zayn’s belt.

They separated quickly so Zayn could tug his shirt over his head before fusing their lips back together. Liam finally managed to get Zayn’s belt undone and began working on his button. Zayn hissed when Liam’s knuckles grazed over his cock. Liam pulled away to push Zayn’s jeans down, taking his boxers at the same time. After stepping out of his clothes and onto his bed, Zayn sank down, lying back and propping himself up on his elbows. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it as he gazed at Liam. When Liam moved towards the bed, Zayn released his lip to grin at Liam, his head tipped to the side and resting on his shoulder as he took in the way Liam dropped to his knees just on the edge of the mattress.

Liam crawled up Zayn’s body, the brushing of their skin sending shivers along his spine. He sat himself atop Zayn’s thighs and reached out to steady himself with one hand on Zayn’s shoulder, while the other went to smooth over one of Zayn’s cheeks. “You’re quite beautiful too, you know?” Zayn looked away, giving a small, cynical sounding laugh that made Liam frown. He ran the pad of his thumb across Zayn’s lower lip until he looked back up at Liam. “I'm serious. If I possessed any skill at drawing whatsoever, I’d want to draw you.”

Zayn didn’t respond, instead, he dropped his arms. The sudden shift made Liam topple forwards until he caught himself with his hands on either side of Zayn’s head. A hand wrapped around the back of Liam’s neck and Zayn pulled him down into a kiss as he arched his hips up into Liam’s. The feeling of Zayn kissing him as he rutted up against Liam was overwhelming, and he could feel his heart speed up in his chest, hear the blood rushing in his ears. He ground his hips back down into Zayn’s, both of them gasping at the contact. Liam felt Zayn shift his legs under him, and suddenly Liam was being rolled, the whole room flipping upside down as Zayn turned them.

Zayn slowed their kissing by mouthing his way across Liam’s jaw, before sucking Liam’s earlobe into his mouth causing Liam’s hips to buck up. Liam groaned as Zayn tugged on the lobe gently with his teeth before Zayn pulled away to sit up on his knees.

“Just need to grab a few things. I would have done it earlier but I got distracted by this,” he ran his hand teasingly up Liam’s cock. “Don’t move.”

Liam watched him walk into the bathroom, appreciating the way the muscles moved in Zayn’s back and across his shoulder blades. Zayn reappeared quickly, clutching a few things in his hands.

“Now see, a part of me was hoping you’d be wanking yourself off when I came back.” Zayn tossed the small box he’d been holding onto Liam’s chest as he settled between Liam’s spread thighs once more.

Liam grinned up at him, “You told me not to move, and besides, I’d much rather you do it for me.” He picked up the box sitting on his chest. It was condoms and the box was mostly full. “Hmm, ambitious or prepared?”

“Cheeky,” Zayn plucked the box from Liam’s hand and pulled a foil packet out, dropping the box onto the ground beside the mattress. “Won’t be a second.”

Liam surged up when Zayn started ripping open the foil. “No, let me,” he said, taking the packet from Zayn and ripping it open. Liam rolled the condom onto Zayn’s cock deliberately slowly, squeezing gently every centimetre or two.

Zayn groaned and his eyes fluttered closed. “Yeah.” His voice was low and his breath hitched slightly in his chest. Zayn kissed Liam when he was done; holding his face between his hands and prying Liam’s lips open with his tongue, meeting little resistance. 

Liam tipped them both back, and Zayn shifted to kiss down Liam’s chest. He dotted open mouthed kisses down Liam’s sternum, deviating from his path to tease at a nipple with his lips and teeth. Liam groaned and carded a hand though Zayn’s hair again, keeping it threaded in the strands as Zayn continued to kiss down his body. He cried out when Zayn began to suck a bruise onto the skin just below his navel. The sound of a cap being popped open brought him back and he looked down the line of his body at Zayn, who was sat kneeling, bent over Liam’s lower half and spreading a generous amount of lube over his long fingers.

The expression on Zayn’s face was slightly questioning as he looked up at Liam through his lashes, biting down on the corner of his bottom lip. Liam nodded and dropped his knees, letting them fall to the side and spread his legs wider. He gasped when Zayn pulled his cock into his mouth once more, sucking as he slid a slick finger slowly inside. Liam moaned and fisted a hand into the covers beneath him as Zayn stretched him, his nerve endings buzzing pleasantly at the feeling.

Slowly, Zayn added fingers, waiting between each until Liam was relaxed, his head tipped back against the pillow, licking his lips and nodding for more. A few breathy whimpers and, with some effort, Liam was untangling his fingers from the sheets, rolling his head up from the pillow to find Zayn watching him with hooded eyes. Liam lifted a hand to Zayn’s cheek, pulling him off. Zayn sat up, fingers still buried in Liam, moving gently. He was breathing heavily, biting his lip hard like it was the only thing stopping him from making noise.

“Now,” Liam breathed and edged his fingers towards the lube, sitting just out of reach.

Zayn grabbed it and fumbled with slippery fingers at the cap before getting it open and squeezing some into his palm. He slicked himself and crawled up over Liam, kissing him hotly as he lined himself up. Liam groaned into Zayn’s mouth when Zayn pressed in and bottomed out in one smooth motion. Liam felt full and the pleasant ache of being stretched even more made his toes curl into the sheets.

Zayn was braced on his elbows above Liam, neck bent as they kissed while he thrust into him. Liam’s groans died off in his throat as he bucked his hips up to meet Zayn’s, crying out suddenly as Zayn hit his prostate. Liam wrapped one leg around Zayn’s calf and hitched the other up on his hip, anchoring himself to the other boy. The action caused Zayn’s thrusts to deepen and Liam made a high keening sound as pleasure shot through his body, making him shake.

They weren’t kissing anymore so much as breathing each other’s air, lips pressing occasionally as their hips snapped together. The air was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the slap of sweat-slick skin.

“Ahh, oh god, mmnnn,” Liam muttered against Zayn’s lips, lifting his arms to dig his fingers into Zayn’s shoulder blades. 

Zayn dropped his head, mouthing at Liam’s throat. “Fuck. You’re…fuck. Liam. God.” He sped up his thrusts and Liam ran his hand down Zayn’s back to grip his arse, pulling their bodies closer.

His erection was trapped between them, rubbing against Zayn’s abdomen on every thrust. The pressure wasn’t quite enough and he said breathlessly, “I need…I need you to…ahh, god. Touch me.”

Weighting himself on just one arm, Zayn pulled the other back and slid a hand between their bodies. It was still a bit slick and moved easily over Liam’s cock, stroking up every time he thrust in. Liam bit down on his lip, muffling his cry, as the sensations of Zayn in him and around him started to become too much.

“Zayn.” Liam sucked in a breath, his skin felt too tight and he could feel the build up of his orgasm starting low in his belly.

“C’mon Liam, I'm close.” Zayn’s hips stuttered, his rhythm going a little off as he breathed the words into Liam’s ear. “I want you…nngh…to come for me, I…ahh…need you to.”

The sound of Zayn pleading for him to come made him let go. Liam threw his head back, his eyes rolling as he arched his spine and came. His long cry tore through the air and he clenched around Zayn, forcing his hips to falter and the hand on Liam’s cock to tighten as Zayn continued to draw his orgasm out of him.

Zayn thrust gracelessly a few more times, mumbling both curses and endearments into Liam’s ear before his whole body locked up and he came, groaning low in his throat. One last push of hips into Liam’s and Zayn pulled out, collapsing boneless, over Liam, breathing harshly into the crook of his shoulder.

They lay like that, coming down from their mutual highs. The weight of Zayn on top of him was comforting in a way, and Liam ran his fingertips lightly up and down Zayn’s ribs. Zayn nosed at the skin of Liam’s shoulder, kissed it softly and made to push himself off of Liam.

Liam tightened his hands over Zayn’s ribs, stopping him from getting up “Stay,” he whispered.

Zayn blinked down at him, a fond smile starting up at the corners of his mouth. He settled back down, snuffling into Liam’s shoulder once more. Liam smiled sleepily and pressed a kiss into his hair.

Closing his eyes, Liam was content to drift off; covered in his own mess and the beautiful boy he’d just met.


	2. One Step Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credits - http://wordgasmic.livejournal.com/19597.html 
> 
> Summary - Liam has been trying to get Zayn to stop smoking since the very beginning, to no avail. But now that they finally got together, he thinks he's found the perfect incentive: sex.

The smoking isn't necessarily something that bothers Liam in theory. But the reality of it, that gets to him. There have been times ― bad days ― that he's stood by and watched Zayn puff his way through half a dozen cigarettes in one sitting, watching him go from completely wound up to fully relaxed. It's times like that when Liam can see the allure in it, but at the same time, the addiction is terrifying to him, how for Zayn just a few draws of the nicotine can loosen all the tension that's built up in his shoulders.

Even how he smokes the cigarettes changes. When it's a stress reliever, his lips will be tight around the filter, thin lines as he sucks in sharp, harsh breaths, letting out the smoke in straight, quick streams. Once he starts to calm, he stops choking them down so desperately, until eventually he's doing nothing more than letting it dangle precariously from the corner of his lax lips. And when he's simply craving one, tired and shaky, he practically makes love with them, going slow so it'll last, to enjoy it entirely.

Liam gets it, he does. Sometimes he even catches himself finding the habit attractive, and liking the way it can change Zayn's demeanor when he's moody and how it seems to make him happy. Liam knows though, in the long run Zayn's love affair with nicotine won't end well.

There's such a wide array of side affects ― dangerous, terrible things that could not only end Zayn's career, but his life as well.

And that is something that Liam is definitely not okay with.

The need to get Zayn to quit smoking has been with Liam from the time he learned of Zayn's addiction. He's been gentle about it, pleading, but it's never done much good. Or any at all.

When Zayn quits, he manages for about a week without. And everyone feels the backlash, though generally the person to insistently push him to give it up feels the brunt of it. Which is only fair, Liam thinks. The other boys aren't quite so generous.

In the past, Liam's been the only one to get Zayn all the way through a full month without a single cigarette ― an honest true month, too, no cheats or slips, Liam is certain. Even during the worst of Zayn's moods, he was there, unlike Louis who would shout ― "Go have a smoke then, you whiny twat." ― and Harry who was far too indulgent, giving in at the slightest of pleas from a wide-eyed Zayn, and Niall who just didn't see much of a problem with it in the first place, as long as it wasn't out of control. So it's up to Liam really, always has been. And he doesn't mind, not once he figures out how exactly to get Zayn to quit for good.

―

They're both crammed into Liam's bunk on the tour bus, and neither of them has any room to move, but it's okay, Liam's happy with that. Zayn has his back to the wall, one arm and one leg thrown over Liam, and it's comfortable, warm. The curtain's pulled shut so the boys will leave them alone for a bit, not that the barrier would stop them anyway, but for once, the others are allowing them their privacy. They're about half an hour out from the venue yet, they've been told, and Liam plans to use that time to his advantage ― meaning he doesn't plan on moving.

Zayn, unfortunately, has other ideas. “I'm gonna grab a smoke quick,” he says, nudging Liam in the ribs.

Liam's not exactly sleeping, just enjoying the quiet and the shared space with Zayn, but he doesn't bother to open his eyes to protest, just frowns and makes a disapproving sound in his throat.

Zayn laughs, airy and warm against Liam's neck, which only makes Liam clutch him tighter, not letting go. “Come on,” he says, patting at Liam's stomach.

“Kiss me first,” he whispers, opening his eyes just wide enough to see Zayn staring down at him. The 'I don't like the taste of your mouth after you've had a cigarette' goes unspoken, but Zayn knows. He's noticed how Liam doesn't let the kisses linger too long after he's just puffed his way down a fag. The worst of the taste and smell of it has to fade away before Liam will really relax into him.

Zayn doesn't argue, slotting their mouths together softly, until Liam presses closer, humming happily against Zayn's lips. Liam's hand tucks under Zayn's shirt, and Zayn's slide into Liam's hair, mussy it further than the pillow already has. They never quite find a rhythm, going too slow, and then too fast, sloppy, hungry kisses that have Liam arching his neck to press closer, harder against Zayn's mouth.

Neither of them notice how long they've been at it until the screams filter in, the venue in sight. Zayn makes a disappointed sound, frowning against Liam's lips, and Liam chuckles, smacking one last, loud kiss on him before he properly pulls away.

It's not until they're stepping off the bus after one last quick kiss that Liam remembers Zayn had planned on a smoke before the show, but he doesn't bring it up, and surprisingly, Zayn doesn't either, having forgotten completely.

It's then that the idea niggles its way into Liam's brain, but he's got no time to properly consider it before his attention is diverted elsewhere.

―

They share a hotel room that night, an oversized bed at their disposal and a seemingly endless amount of time to kill without a wake-up call to dread the next morning. Zayn grabs his fags and a lighter from his bag and moves toward the balcony, intentions clear. Liam pretends not to notice as he steps in Zayn's path, bringing their bodies together. Zayn smiles as one of Liam's hands settles on his hip, the other cupping his neck as he presses a kiss to the corner of Zayn's mouth.

“I was just gonna...” Zayn says, trailing off when Liam leaves a chain of soft, wet kisses across the line of his jaw.

“Hmm?” Liam asks, slotting a leg between Zayn's, sucking a kiss to the skin just below his ear. If he breathes out a bit too loud into Zayn's ear after their hips knock together, Zayn doesn't notice.

“Nothing,” he chokes out, guiding them both back toward the bed.

And after, they both fall straight to sleep, Zayn's crumpled pack of smokes laying abandoned on the middle of the floor.

―

Liam leaves the bed as quietly as he can the next morning, so not to wake Zayn, and showers quickly, hopeful that Zayn won't have gotten up to smoke before he's finished.

Zayn is awake when Liam comes out of the bathroom, sitting back against the headboard with his phone in his hand. The cigarettes are where they'd been discarded last night, untouched. Liam breathes out a sigh of relief. He can feel Zayn's eyes on him as he moves across the room, raking over the exposed parts of his body. He's wearing nothing more than a towel, and he tries not to feel self-conscious as he lets it fall to the floor, directly over the packet and lighter, hiding them from view.

Zayn huffs out a breath, mumbles out, “Come here,” before Liam can get to his suitcase for some clothes.

He goes, willingly, satisfied with how easily everything is going as planned.

The duvet has been kicked to the end of the bed already, and Zayn is still naked from the night before. Liam settles himself on the bed over Zayn, pushing him back into the pillows when he tries to lean forward to kiss Liam's chest. He groans at that, and Liam grins, holding him there while he stares up at Liam with wide eyes. Liam kisses Zayn's lips first, before he makes his way down, down, down.

“Don't stop,” Zayn begs quietly, fingers knotted into Liam's wet hair.

He doesn't, not until they're cutting it close, almost time to check out. The towel gets left where it was dropped, cigarettes long forgotten.

―

It's substantially more difficult when it's not just Liam and Zayn. Luckily, they usually stick close to each other no matter where they are.

Another city, another hotel, and they're all together in one room, laughing at some stupid sitcom Niall had found while channel surfing.

Zayn is tucked in between Liam and the arm of the couch, his arm draped over Liam's shoulder, thumb sliding back and forth over his collarbone. Zayn whispers that he's going for a smoke; he means to slip out with no one having noticed, except Liam, who he's told, but after Zayn pushes himself up, Liam rises to follow.

“I'll come with you,” he says, slipping his hand into Zayn's.

Zayn gives him a curious look over his shoulder before shrugging and walking off, Liam right behind him. Neither of them say anything to the boys as they go, because, as Zayn has planned it, they'll be coming back in a few minutes anyway ― but Liam has no intentions of letting it pan out that way, though he's not about to let that slip to Zayn.

Someone catcalls as they're leaving (Louis), and gets told to shut up for his effort (Harry), followed by a laugh (Niall). Liam rolls his eyes, ignoring each one of them in kind.

Zayn doesn't have his fags on him, which works perfectly in Liam's favor. He pushes Zayn up against the wall as soon as the door has swung shut. Zayn grunts, surprised, but he goes with it regardless, hands settling on Liam's hips.

“What has gotten into you?” Zayn asks breathlessly when Liam moves down to his neck, his hands already working Zayn's fly open.

“Not you, in a while,” he says. “But maybe, if you want to, yeah?”

“Christ,” Zayn groans. Then, “Yeah. Yeah.”

Liam nods against his neck, drops to his knees to work Zayn's trousers off. He sucks Zayn off right there, resisting against him when he tries to pull him off, warning that he's going to come.

It doesn't take much to bring him back, just Liam stroking lube over a few of his fingers and then guiding his hand between his legs. Zayn is absolutely gone, eyes fixed on Liam as he clutches at Liam's hip, controlling the movements as he rides down on Zayn's fingers, and then his cock.

They don't make it back to the boys that night. In fact, Liam doesn't let Zayn leave the bed at all.

―

The next day, Liam is so thankful to see the brightly posted 'No Smoking' signs all over the premises. They'll be there all day for interviews, and Liam's got nothing to worry about. Zayn grumbles about it, but his mood doesn't last long, catching the way Liam shifts and bites his lip too often, sore from the night before. Zayn's smug smile is worth the embarrassment when Louis catches on and ribs him relentlessly the rest of the day. It's worth it to not have to worry about Zayn sneaking off to inhale his death.

―

“I haven't had a smoke in a week,” Zayn says offhand one night in bed. Liam glances up at him, sees him staring contemplatively at the pack of cigs lying abandoned on the nightstand.

Liam feels the slightest pang of guilt, but it doesn't last long. He knows this wouldn't have worked quite so well if Zayn had known what he'd been up to.

“I know,” he admits quietly, shifting over onto his side to face Zayn. Zayn looks confused for a moment, then his eyes narrow and he glares down at Liam. “I had a theory,” Liam explains. “I was testing it out.”

“And?” Zayn prompts.

“And it's going really well,” Liam says. “Really well, for both of us, I think.” He lets a grin slowly curve his mouth upwards,.

Zayn snorts at that, shooting a disbelieving look down at Liam. “You've been using sex to get me to quit smoking? Without my knowledge? That's like, there are consent issues there, I think.”

Liam squawks at that and swats Zayn in the chest. “Hey, you were more than willing each and every time.”

Zayn laughs before glancing toward the side table, and then back to Liam, again, and again. “I'm really craving a cigarette right now,” he says gravely.

Liam adopts a serious expression, rolling toward Zayn, half on top of him. “Maybe I can help with that,” he suggests.

“Maybe you can,” Zayn agrees.


	3. Again, Again and Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credits: http://wester-fic.tumblr.com/post/43457966562/again-again-again 
> 
> Summary: Lots of sex. Very little plot. Contains bareback sex, multiple orgasms, riding, rimming, and bottom Zayn.

If there’s one thing to be said about his boyfriend, it’s that he can certainly put on a good show.

i really want u right now xx

Liam’s breath catches in his throat, his clothes suddenly feeling a little too tight. His mobile had buzzed five minutes ago, but he’d told himself he’d finish up one last report and then check it.

The text is from Zayn, of course. Zayn, who’d had the day off and promised Liam he’d just stay in and clean the house. Obviously, it isn’t just cleaning on his mind. His mobile buzzes again.

can u come home early?? ;)

Liam sighs. He has a lot of work to get done, and he knows that the chief has been thinking about promoting him. There’s a lieutenant’s position open, and while Liam’s good at his desk job volleying calls and writing up reports analyzing the fires he and his team extinguish, he knows that he’s capable of more. And a salary a notch higher isn’t unattractive either.

It doesn’t look good to dip out of work early, Liam knows this. But his mind is conjuring up images that are hard to resist, and the next message illuminating his mobile screen doesn’t help.

i’m really hard li…i want you so bad xxx

Liam sets his pen down carefully, feeling a little lightheaded. He’s already put up a mental wall to suppress his imagination from wandering to what’s waiting for him back at the house. He responds to Zayn with fingers that only shake a little bit.

half an hour.

*  
Zayn grins wickedly when he gets Liam’s response, knowing how difficult it can be to tear his boyfriend away from his work. He’d really been trying to focus on all the cleaning he’d been planning on doing, and he’d gotten through the kitchen before he’d gotten unfairly, unbearably horny. It wasn’t his fault. Both him and Liam had been working a lot lately, and of course their schedules were near perfect inverses of each other, leaving next to no time to enjoy each other. They hadn’t had sex in more than a week, and for Zayn, that was simply unacceptable.

Half an hour. Twenty-five minutes, now.

*

Liam manages to keep a clear head until he gets to their street, and then he can’t resist speeding down the quiet residential avenue, turning into the driveway too fast and fishtailing a little. He can’t be bothered to care, and he grabs his briefcase and exits the car recklessly, trying not to look too much as though he’s fleeing a crime scene.

“Zayn?” he calls anxiously as he shuts the door behind him, throwing the deadlock just for good measure.

“I’m in here, babe,” and fuck if his voice isn’t already rougher than normal. It’s coming from their bedroom.

Liam cracks open the door, almost cautiously. His mouth drops open at what he sees.

Zayn’s laying there, on the bed, in nothing but his tiny black briefs, palming himself through the fabric. His hips roll into his own hand as he stares into Liam’s eyes, biting his lip. Liam meets his gaze evenly, swallowing the saliva that’s suddenly accumulated in his mouth. If there’s one thing to be said about his boyfriend, it’s that he can certainly put on a good show.

He walks over to Zayn on unsteady legs and traces his fingers down his chest. “Couldn’t wait?”

Zayn sighs at the contact. “You were taking too long.”

Liam smiles, and he knows his eyes are crinkling up in adoration because Zayn smiles a little bit too, playfully. “Come here,” he says impatient now.

Liam obliges, pulling off his shirt hastily and crouching over Zayn on the bed, connecting their lips. Zayn’s hands stroke up his back and his legs wrap around Liam’s waist. Liam can feel Zayn’s feet flexing against his thighs, hands skimming greedily across the expanse of his back. He always likes to be touching as much of Liam as he can when they’re together, and since they haven’t had the chance to make love in a while, it seems that he’s feeling starved for attention.

“I missed you,” he whispers fiercely into Liam’s neck as he breaks away. Liam kisses his hair, lets his broad hands wander across Zayn’s shoulders and chest.

“It’s barely been a week,” Liam chuckles into his collarbone. But he knows, knows that a week without sex is like an eternity for Zayn, that he’d like to sleep with Liam three times a day if their schedules were more forgiving.

Zayn just reaches up his back and grips Liam’s hair with his hands, pulling him back to his mouth. Liam can feel Zayn’s cock pressing into his hip, knows that there’s a reason Zayn is grasping him so tightly with his legs and rubbing up into his body.

“I want you to fuck me,” Zayn murmurs silkily into his ear, doing his best to grind his hips up against Liam’s.

Liam swallows thickly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He presses a final kiss to Zayn’s jaw and straightens up. Zayn unwraps his legs from around Liam’s waist and sits up too. He bats Liam’s hands away from where they’re fumbling with the zipper of his pants, and Liam lets him. He knows that Zayn likes to do this himself.

Zayn focuses all of his attention on the task at hand, bending forward to carefully undo the button on Liam’s jeans and tease his zipper down. He kisses the bulge in Liam’s boxers playfully before he tugs his trousers down and then almost reverently eases his boxers off, staring as Liam’s cock is freed. Humming happily, he licks delicately up the vein on the underside and presses a soft kiss to the tip before he lies back and stares at Liam expectantly.

Liam sputters. “That wasn’t very nice, you could at least follow through.”

“I didn’t even mean to, I just couldn’t resist,” Zayn insists. He wiggles around on the mattress impatiently. “C'mon, Li.” 

Liam reaches forward to pull Zayn’s briefs off. He’s already sticky with precome, cock dark with arousal. Liam gives him a brief squeeze, eliciting a little squeal before he reaches down to Zayn’s entrance, fumbling around on the endtable for lube.

Zayn shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I already did myself.”

Liam raises an eyebrow, because Zayn isn’t lying. He’s already slick and yielding to his fingers. “Must’ve been really eager.”

Zayn ignores him and pushes against Liam’s fingers, obviously wanting more. “Hurry up,” he moans, and he sounds so filthy that Liam can’t resist smoothing some lube over his own erection and moving closer between Zayn’s splayed legs. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Liam asks anxiously. He doesn’t want to hurt Zayn.  
“God, yes, Liam, fucking christ,” Zayn practically shouts at him.

“All right, all right. Calm down.” Liam murmurs, placing his broad hands on Zayn’s hips and guiding him onto his cock. Zayn groans as Liam drags him slowly down the sheets, eyes narrowing to slits and locking with Liam’s. He hisses when Liam’s all the way in and his nails drag down Liam’s biceps. 

Liam gives him a few moments to adjust, but Zayn’s shifting his hips against Liam faster than Liam himself has time to process the sensation of Zayn wrapped around him.

“Go,” Zayn demands, rocking against him more insistently. Liam slides his hands to grip the sides of Zayn’s torso and begins moving, suppressing a groan at how nice it feels. Zayn whimpers and digs his nails into Liam’s arms, his cock still lying swollen against his hip. Liam reaches down and slowly strokes him as he sinks into Zayn’s body again, and Zayn lets a filthy moan pour out of his mouth as he tips his head back, eyes falling shut.

“Liam,” he purrs, regarding him through eyes that are barely slanted open. His fingers knead Liam’s biceps, eager to touch as much as he can. “Harder.”

Liam swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He can go harder. He gets himself pulled almost all the way out and snaps forward. He can feel the impact to Zayn’s body from where he’s gripping his sides, and he presses him down on the bed as he begins to fuck him harder.

Zayn gasps, and Liam can feel his feet on his lower back, his legs curling around Liam’s frame in pleasure. His back flexes, arching his hips closer to Liam and straining against his hands. Liam holds him steadfastly, though. He knows he’s rubbing just over Zayn’s prostate, and if he concentrates hard enough, he can hit it dead on. He shifts the angle of his hips just a little - and there. Zayn yelps and his body tenses, nails dragging down Liam’s back now.

“Yeah,” he moans. “Thassit, Liam.”

Liam snaps his hips into the spot a few more times and Zayn is writhing beneath him, his legs slipping all over the place and hands frantically clawing at Liam’s back.

“Touch me,” Zayn breathes. “T-touch me, please, Li, god.”

Liam’s brain can barely rally the muscle control he needs to reach down and fist Zayn’s cock sloppily, considering he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last himself, but he does, and Zayn whines and arches into his touch.

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna -” Zayn’s voice is breathy and high pitched, his limbs completely locked around Liam’s pistoning frame. He climaxes with what’s almost a scream, muffled into Liam’s shoulder as his body shakes.  
Liam only pumps into Zayn a few more times before he’s coming inside of him with a growl, struggling to hold his hips still as his cock pulses.

When he carefully pulls out of Zayn, he collapses on the bed. Liam gets exhausted after sex, and Zayn is always willing to cuddle.

Zayn sighs in contentment, and turns onto his side to face Liam. “That was nice.” He kisses the end of Liam’s nose, and then makes for his lips. Liam kisses along halfheartedly, jaw hurting from being clenched shut thanks to his attempts not to moan.

It’s when Zayn licks into his mouth in earnest and hitches a leg up and over Liam’s hip that he begins to expect something is up. He reaches a hand accusingly down to Zayn’s crotch to feel nothing other than a hard-on under the sheets. Zayn hums in appreciation.

Liam sighs and breaks the kiss. “How do you do it?”

Zayn shrugs a shoulder and attacks Liam’s lips again. “Dunno. Wanna go again?”

“God, baby. I’m really tired. I might fall asleep in the middle.” It’s happened before, and Zayn didn’t speak to him for hours.

Zayn’s lips purse. That wouldn’t do.

“How about I just ride you?” he chirps, hopping onto Liam to straddle his lap.

Liam makes a strangled noise. It isn’t often that Zayn offers this, usually preferring Liam to do the work. He isn’t sure that he can conjure up the energy to come again, though.

As though reading his mind, Zayn smiles. “Don’t worry,” he purrs. “I’ll take care of you, Liam.” He slides down Liam’s body to take his cock into his mouth, bobbing his head and tonguing Liam’s sensitive slit until he’s moaning. Usually Zayn wastes a lot of time teasing, but right now he seems to want to get to the point.

Liam’s hard again in moments, even though his muscles are protesting and he knows he’ll be monumentally sore in the morning.

Practically purring in satisfaction, Zayn slithers back up Liam’s body, tracing his cock with a finger on the way up. Spreading his legs and gripping the base of Liam’s cock, he bites his lip in concentration and lets out a shuddery sigh as he sinks down.

“Christ, Z,” Liam’s hand flies to Zayn’s hip, more to steady himself.

Zayn’s head falls forward, palms planted on Liam’s chest as he adjusts to the more extreme sensation. His breath comes in short little puffs as he starts experimentally moving his hips, just shifting around on Liam’s lap. He makes a little noise, presumably when Liam’s cock brushes his prostate, and starts raising himself up slowly. Liam takes a sharp breath as he sinks back down, his cock feeling Zayn inch by inch.

“Liam…you’re so big…” Zayn’s moaning, and Liam blushes brightly. It’s different like this, because while he might be used to Zayn being filthy in bed, Liam doesn’t feel in control here. He kind of likes it. Zayn’s picking himself up again, thighs tense where they’re straddling Liam’s torso. He starts going faster, then, little gushes of air leaving his lips every time he sinks back down on Liam’s cock.

 

Liam is utterly entranced by the sight before him: sweaty, flushed Zayn, his cock slapping against his stomach with every bounce. His lips part and his eyebrows draw together as he concentrates, and he arches further back until his hands are resting on Liam’s thighs, hips churning away up and down his cock.

Liam doesn’t feel himself losing control until it’s too late, and this time he feels completely helpless as he comes, orgasm ripping through him almost painfully.

Zayn pauses and grins dirtily, stroking a hand down Liam’s chest. “See, there, I knew you could do it, baby.”

Liam barely processes his words, brain foggy with bliss and the sensation of Zayn rocking his hips lazily on Liam’s still-jerking cock.

As he floats back to awareness Zayn presses lips to his ear. “I didn’t come yet, though,” he whispers, and Liam swallows. He knows what’s next.

Zayn pulls off of Liam carefully, cock still straining against his stomach. “Up, up, up,” he chirps at Liam. Liam thinks it must be some Hereculean feat of love that he’s able to drag himself up onto his elbows. Zayn’s turned himself around, facing away from Liam on his hands and knees.

Liam groans. This is really too much. Zayn’s literally overflowing with come, Liam’s come. It’s dripping down the insides of his thighs obscenely. Liam raises shaky hands to Zayn’s ass, spreading his cheeks carefully and holding them apart. Zayn hums in appreciation, peering at Liam upside down from where he’s resting his forehead on the mattress.

“You’re so good to me, Liam,” he sighs. “Mf, god.”

Liam’s buried his lips in the cleft of Zayn’s ass, licking the taste of his own come away sloppily. He’s exhausted, and his jaw and tongue are already sore, so he isn’t using quite as much finesse as he might normally. Zayn doesn’t seem to mind, making pleased sounds and gripping the sheets. He whines when Liam flicks his tongue past his entrance, voice nearly broken. 

“More,” he moans hoarsely, shoving his ass back into Liam’s face. Liam licks into him deeper, lips rubbing against Zayn’s sensitive skin. He places a palm on Zayn’s lower back and presses him down on the mattress wordlessly, parts his thighs a little, and goes back to work. The combination of the sensation of Liam tonguing into him and the obscene noises his mouth is making have Zayn rutting into the mattress, gnawing on a knuckle to stave off his orgasm.

He melts into the mattress, though, when Liam somehow sneaks a finger in past his tongue to stroke at the edge of Zayn’s prostate.

“Liamliamliam…” Zayn’s voice is getting breathier and higher and finally, his back tenses up and Liam sees his hips still, lips open in a silent cry as he comes. He presses a soft kiss to the small of Zayn’s back with swollen lips, resting his head there until Zayn turns his face around to smile dizzily at Liam.

“We made a mess,” he murmurs, voice gravelly. Liam nods in agreement and hoists Zayn up over his shoulder (if he’s going to be sore in the morning, he might as well do it right). He carries his limp boyfriend over to the couch on the opposite wall of their room, snatching a comforter from the floor on the way.

“Deal with it in the morning,” he mumbles, pulling Zayn close to him. Zayn giggles and nuzzles his neck, kissing softly and smushing his face into Liam’s chest. Liam hooks his chin over Zayn’s head, arm pulling him flush to his body.

“You’re a champ for keeping up,” Zayn says, muffled.

Liam rolls his eyes. “I could keep up with you any day, Malik.”

He feels the curl of Zayn’s lips against his sternum. “If that’s the case, I’m up for round three.”

Liam reaches around and pinches Zayn’s ass, making him flinch. “Go to sleep.”


	4. Words on Cardboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Zayn doesn't have a problem. No, really, he doesn't. Whatever, Liam just smells nice and it's not weird that Zayn sometimes jerks off while wearing his shirts is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author credits: http://lnr-fics.livejournal.com/47542.html 
> 
> Hey guys! Dont forget to comment prompts that you would like me to search up or maybe also write!  
> Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Cheers,  
> G

Zayn tells himself it's just because he and Liam have similar fashion sense, but that's not exactly true.

Well, it's a little bit true. He and Liam do have similar fashion sense, but Zayn has enough of his own clothes that he doesn't really need to borrow Liam's. They're a bit stupid with that, though, this band. Zayn couldn't count on both hands how many of Harry's t-shirts are crumpled on his floor or how many of his own Louis's stolen.

It's not a problem for anyone else. Louis just rolls his eyes when he discovers his missing jumper in Liam's room and Harry gets into a bitchy mood all day when he can't find his favorite shoes only to discover them over at Niall's.

All of the others take it in stride, so Zayn's not sure why he can't.

That's a lie. He knows why he can't, and it has everything to do with the fact that it's Liam.

Zayn doesn't wear Liam's clothes that often, mostly because he knows what happens when he does. He'll slide on one of Liam's button downs and it looks good, not as good as it would look on Liam, but pretty good.

And then he'll notice things throughout the day, like how he smells a little different because Liam uses different detergent from the rest of them. He'll notice that the shirt falls farther on him because Liam's taller than him. He'll notice these things and doesn't know what to do with them, so he tucks them away for later contemplation.

It's nice. Zayn knows it's nicer than it's got any right to be, wearing Liam's clothes. It might just be because he likes Liam, but he knows it's more than that.

He knows because sometimes he'll be lying in bed, staring at the ceiling at the end of the day, knowing he wants to go to sleep but not willing to take off the shirt he's been wearing. It still smells vaguely like Liam, though it's faded throughout the day. To get the full effect, he's got to undo a few buttons and then tug the collar up to bury his nose in it. Zayn's very glad nobody else is in the room with him, because if they were, they'd see him being beyond creepy.

He closes his eyes and inhales again. It's delicate, nuanced, like Liam. Zayn isn't sure whether Liam does something else with his clothes to make them smell like this, but it's not just detergent. It smells like detergent mixed with Liam's room.

Zayn's never felt more like a stalker in his life.

They all have smells, not that Zayn would ever mention it. Louis smells like suntan lotion and aftershave most of the time. Harry smells like dry shampoo and a little like sex. Niall smells like chocolate and baby powder. Zayn's pretty sure he just has a thing for smells, but none of them affect him like Liam's.

Where the others just make him smile and think of friendship, belonging, Liam makes him have to steady himself and shift in his seat. The way Liam smells affects him so deeply that sometimes Liam will walk past him and the scent that lingers makes him ache inside.

Zayn inhales again, one hand bunched in the fabric as the other trails over his thigh. He's removed his trousers, now lying there in boxers and Liam's shirt. He's done this before, but not so much that he doesn't feel a guilty shame when he palms himself through the material of his underwear and finds what he already knew. He's hard.

He squeezes a little, lips pressing to the inside of the collar. His breath is trapped between the fabric and his lips, which are becoming progressively wetter by the moment. He swipes his tongue out to catch the excess moisture and then his breath catches in a sigh as he slips his hand inside his boxers.

It's not like Zayn doesn't know how to get himself off, so he makes quick work of it. The longer he keeps this shirt on the worse he feels.

He reaches over to his bedside table and grabs a tissue from the box there, wiping the mess from his fingers and then unbuttoning the shirt the rest of the way to remove it.

Cold, now, Zayn leans over the edge of the bed to dig through the basket of clothing he hasn't gotten around to putting in drawers yet. The first thing he grabs is a t-shirt, Harry's, he thinks, so he tugs it on, pretending he doesn't notice that Liam's shirt is still splayed beside his pillow as he turns out the light. If Liam's scent helps him to get to sleep any easier, that's his own business.

\--

The next morning, Liam asks if anyone's seen his blue plaid shirt and Zayn forgets himself, mumbling that yeah, it's in his room around a spoonful of cereal. Liam goes to find it, joking about how difficult it'll be to find. When he gets back, he's got a really weird look on his face, but Zayn's distracted by Harry attempting to put an orange peel down his trousers.

"Found it," Liam announces, and that's when Zayn remembers where the shirt was when he woke up in the morning, half tucked under his pillow and half wrapped around his wrist. Christ. Fuck. Shit.

He looks up, hoping he's got an expression of nonchalance on his face but pretty sure it's actually abject terror. Liam gives him a pointed look. Zayn sighs, turning back to his cornflakes. He doesn't want to talk about it later. Can't Liam just let him be creepy in peace?

"Glad it wasn't buried under everything," he mumbles, smacking Harry's hand again. "Styles, if you don't stop trying to grope me, I'm going to think terrible things."

"Terrible true things," Louis shoots back, flicking a piece of scrambled egg at Harry's head. Zayn's grateful, because in the ensuing shuffle Harry stays very far away from him with the orange peel.

"Don't waste food," Niall grumbles cheerfully, if it's possible to do such a thing. If anyone can do it, Niall can, Zayn thinks. He looks confused when Zayn ruffles his hair affectionately, but that's alright.

"I wasn't wasting it," Louis protests. He's feeding Harry a piece of bacon now. Zayn wonders about them sometimes, but considering last night he jerked off wearing Liam's shirt, he doesn't really have room to speculate. "I was using it. Egg is very good for the hair."

"Not when it's cooked, wanker," Harry huffs. He accepts Louis's apology in the form of a kiss to the head, and then goes back to his own breakfast.

Liam's remained quiet this whole time and Zayn doesn't know if that's good or bad, at the moment. At least he's not bringing it up in front of everyone.

"What're we doing today?" Niall asks around his fork. He's eaten around seven pieces of toast. Zayn wonders absently if you can overdose on toast before dismissing the thought. "Anything?"

"Hazza and I were gonna see a movie if any of you want to come," Louis offers, licking syrup off the tines of his fork. "Something very romantic. French. With subtitles, of course."

Niall wrinkles his nose playfully. "Never took French. Unless it's a movie about french toast."

Louis assures him that it isn't, and Niall declines the invitation.

"Zayn and I are doing stuff." Liam delivers it so casually that Zayn's nodding along before he realizes, what no we aren't. "Next time, maybe."

He looks completely sincere. Zayn wonders when Liam became such an incredible liar and why he finds it slightly arousing.

"You're just not sophisticated enough." Louis lifts his nose in mock snootiness. "Harry and I will just have to watch La Grenouille Merveilleuse on our own. Or maybe with the Queen. Because it's a fancy film. With subtitles."

"Something about a frog," Harry mutters into his oatmeal. "I don't want to see a film about a frog."

"Shut up, Harry," Louis responds, pushing his chair back from the table. "It's about a fancy frog."

"You're a fancy frog," Niall says as he gets up to put his plate in the sink.

This is the weirdest fucking band, Zayn's pretty sure. He has no idea what even just happened in that conversation.

"So what're we doing tonight?" he murmurs around his spoon. He's avoiding Liam's eyes. "Or did you just make that up to get out of going to a film with the odd couple?"

"Mm." Liam slowly chews his bite of egg, gaze burning into Zayn's face. He can feel the intensity of it but all he can see is the way Liam's jaw is working. It's terribly attractive.

"Alright, then." Zayn smiles like it's a joke but they both know what Liam wants to talk about. He considers faking ill before remembering that Liam's not his teacher and they live twenty feet from each other.

He'll just have to figure out a believable story before tonight, that's all. He's intelligent, he can totally do that.

Zayn swallows his last mouthful of cornflakes with that comforting thought and moves to put his bowl in the sink. As he does, though, Liam sets a warm hand on his wrist and squeezes before moving it away. However brief the touch is, it makes Zayn feel warm all over, and dizzy.

Well, shit. Maybe this won't be as easy as he thought.

\--

The day passes more quickly than Zayn would like and at around seven there's a knock on his door. Harry and Louis have both texted him the information about the cinema and the times, automatic by now to make sure they're all aware of each others' whereabouts, so he figures they've left, and Niall wouldn't knock, so it's only going to be one person.

With a deep breath and pasting an easy smile on his face, Zayn opens the door. Liam gives him a smile right back but seems distracted by something.

"Hey," he greets, stepping inside when Zayn moves to let him in. "Are you sleeping with my shirt?"

Zayn lapses into laughter at how ridiculous it sounds. His heart's pounding quickly but he ignores it. "You sound like a protective father," he points out, closing the door. "Are you going to ask me my intentions?"

He sees Liam think back over what he said and then crack a smile.

"Oh, that's not what I meant." He shakes his head. It's cute how he thinks Zayn wasn't fully aware of what he meant. "I mean... It was just sort of weird how it was... When I found it."

"I dunno, man, I just took it off yesterday and threw it somewhere." Zayn shrugs. "Sorry, I'll wash it if you want."

"Not what I meant." Liam gives him another look. Zayn really wishes he would stop doing that.

"What'd you mean, then?" Zayn doesn't think it's possible for your heart to beat out of your chest.

"It was all... Just, look, I don't care, or anything." Liam's starting to look embarrassed. He can't possibly be as embarrassed as Zayn is. "Just, are you?"

"... I, uh," Zayn stammers. It's as good as a yes, but it's so hard to lie to Liam. Especially when he can smell him from a foot away. "I dunno. It smells nice."

Way to sound terrifying, Malik, he chastises himself.

Liam just looks surprised now. "Does it?" There's a furrow in his brow that Zayn can admit, in his head at least, is adorable. "Really?"

"Er, yeah. Sorry," he adds in case that's what Liam wants out of this conversation. He's not sure what Liam wants out of this conversation, actually. Neither of them really stands to gain anything besides awkwardness and tension.

"No, it's fine, like I said. Just wanted to know." Liam sounds half-curious, half-confused. "So, what, do you just sniff it to get to sleep?"

"No!" Zayn protests. "Shit, no, Liam."

"Well, I don't know!" Liam replies defensively. "I've never smelled someone's shirt to get to sleep before!"

"That's not it," Zayn groans, shoving a hand through his hair. It's lucky he's not going anywhere because he's pretty sure he just destroyed his quiff. "It's like a... I don't know, you just smell nice."

Liam licks his lips before responding and Zayn's eyes automatically flick there before he remembers that Liam is watching him and can see when he does that.

"I - Oh." Whatever Liam was going to say, he stops, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Zayn covers his eyes with his hand and groans again. Why is his life so horrible?

"What?" he asks anyway, not removing his hand. Liam tugs his hand off anyway, though, closer than he was before.

He ducks his head just a little before looking back into Zayn's eyes. "This is okay, right?" he asks. The hint of uncertainty strikes Zayn as ludicrous right now, and he can't hold back the smile.

"Yeah," he answers, because with Liam comes the scent of Liam, heady and much more of a rush when it's coming from the actual person. "Yeah, this is okay."

Liam kisses him with a little hesitance anyway, which is fine as anything else might have caused Zayn to combust. He presses back at Liam's lips with his own, needing to tilt his head up a little. He's not used to that, but then again, a lot of things about the way Liam makes him feel are different from what he's used to.

"I can like, lend you a shirt or something," Liam mumbles, apparently unwilling to separate their lips while he talks. "Less creepy."

"Shut up," Zayn replies. Kissing is far more important to him right now than a silly shirt.


End file.
